Summer Flings
by otakuandproud123
Summary: Chelsea's just broken up with her boyfriend, Vaughn. Of course, leave Natalie to take things into her own hands... one-shot for a contest with the theme of summer for a forum called Story Harvest. I'd include this in the story, but then that would exceed the amount of words needed for the story 8000 ... ;;


A strand of hair is twirled back and forth with one hand while the other drums its fingers on the table as blue eyes belonging to the same person stare longingly at the iPhone in front of her, its back covered with crudely drawn sunflowers and cow stickers. A breath that has been unconsciously held is released when the phone begins ringing on the table, and an impatient hand picks up the phone and holds it to an ear hidden under stringy, dark blonde hair.

"Chelsea speaking, is that you Vaughn?" the girl introduces herself, wishing that the person on the other line is the man who she really wants to talk to right now. School just ended for the both of them, and he'd promised that he would call her to make plans for the next time they would meet, which is why Chelsea waits so anxiously for his call.

"Hey, Chelse!"

Chelsea pouts as she realizes that it's just her best friend, Natalie. Honestly, the girl on the other end of the phone's sense of timing isn't all that great, and hasn't Chelsea told Natalie not to call her until her boyfriend has called her? Not caring about what the other has to say, Chelsea immediately disconnects the call and puts the phone back in the place where it had been before. The phone rings again, and this time, Chelsea recognizes the number. It's Natalie again. Annoyed, she picks up the phone and answers it, deciding that she had better answer or else the other girl would be calling her all night.

"What do you want, Natalie?" Chelsea sighs, leaning back and trying to put her feet up on the desk in front of her. There are two piles of books, several stacks of papers, and too many flash cards to count spread around the hard, worn surface; just enough space for a dirty pair of sneakers.

"Alright, first, hanging up on me was rude. You didn't even hear what I have to say!" Natalie complains, ignoring Chelsea's snort. The blonde wonders if Natalie was in her right mind when she told her specifically not to call until she's allowed to again, but doesn't want to remind her right now.

"Alright, I'm sorry about that."

"You better be! Anyway, did you hear? Some guy and his family are moving into the apartment complex nearby, and I heard some gossip that he's cute, available, and totally your type!"

Natalie continues on and on about the boy's appearance as Chelsea rolls her eyes in frustration. Whenever Natalie hears that there's an attractive male within 100 miles of her, regardless of their attitude, she always seems to develop a void in her mind, right in the place that's supposed to remind her of Chelsea and Vaughn's relationship, and begins trying to set Chelsea up with the attractive guy.

"Natalie, how many times do I have to remind you, I have a boyfriend, who I am currently waiting to call me?"

"What? You're still with that guy? Well, if you are, I suppose I'll just have to take him as my own boyfriend, then!"

"You have a boyfriend too," Chelsea reminds her absent-minded friend. The blonde needs at least five more hands to count how many boyfriends Natalie has had and dumped for another guy over the past two years alone, all of them previously appealed to Chelsea and then turned down. Why can't she just pick one guy and stick to him? And how can a single teenager go through so many boys in such a short time without feeling a single ounce of guilt? Then again, there are just some things that should never be answered. Natalie snorts and makes her reply.

"What, him? Pfft, I was gonna dump him anyways. I mean, he always tastes like alcohol and cigarette when I kiss him."

There's that word again. 'Gonna'. Why does Natalie use it so much even though she knows how much the girl in the red bandanna hates it? It's as if she does it just to annoy her.

"Spare me the details," Chelsea replies, rolling her eyes even though Natalie couldn't see her, although she has a pretty good idea that the pink haired girl knows her well enough to sense it. "Anyway, if that's all you called to tell me, I have to get back to waiting for my own boyfriend to call me."

"Hmph. Alright, call ya later."

Natalie is the first to hang up. Grateful, Chelsea puts her feet back on the ground where they belong and puts her phone back on the desk, where it was before. She picks up a sheet of paper and a mechanical pencil, beginning to write down possible things to say to Vaughn when he calls her. After all, being around her boyfriend always made her feel a little dizzy, so she had to prepare ahead of time.

* * *

At 7:00 pm the next Saturday, Chelsea is waiting in front of Vaughn's house. She's wearing a short, white jacket over a pink tank top and blue jeans, a change from her regular outfit consisting of a white shirt, orange vest, blue cotton shorts, and red sneakers. Even though they've been together for two years, Chelsea can't help but feel a need to look her best in front of Vaughn. Shuffling uncomfortably, she looks up as she hears footsteps coming from the direction of the house, assuming them to be her boyfriend. She's right.

"Hi, Vaughn!" she greets him, walking up to him and giving him a hug. However, she can't help but notice that Vaughn doesn't return the hug. In fact, he actually seems kind of… gloomy. Squirming, Vaughn pulls away from Chelsea, who stares at him in wonder. "You retreated."

"Yeah, I know…"

Vaughn sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose, making Chelsea worry about him a little more. What if he's sick? Then they wouldn't be able to do whatever it is he was planning to do that night! The male sighs to himself.

"Vaughn…?" Chelsea asks uncertainly, reaching out a hand to hold his shoulder, but it's promptly held by Vaughn. "Sweetie… are you okay?"

"Chelsea…" Vaughn starts. He takes her other hand in his, and begins rubbing her palms with his thumbs, a comforting gesture. "I… I have something to tell you."

"What is it, Vaughn? I'm all ears."

"Well… lately, I just haven't… I haven't been feeling the same way as we did two years ago."

Chelsea's eyes widen. Is he doing what she thinks he's doing?

"But… why?" she asks, dreading the answer. "Is it because I can't speak my mind? O-Or I'm too restless and loud? Am I too childish? I-Is my body not good enough for you? Oh, I know! I get too clingy to you, that's it, right?"

Vaughn's silvery hair shines in the moonlight as he shakes his head in denial. The night seems to mock Chelsea, with the sky having millions of stars that they can actually see, the air being not too cold and not too warm, and fireflies buzzing around little pools of water, adding their own reflection to that of the stars. "No, no! It's not that. In fact, you're perfect."

"Then what's the problem?"

"The problem? Chelsea, can you think about what we did on our date two weeks ago?"

They stayed at Vaughn's place and watched Desperate Housewives.

"Well, yeah…"

"And the week before that?"

"We stayed at my place and watched Survivor."

"And the week before that?"

"We stayed at your place and watched Bleach… so all we did was watch TV. What about it?" Chelsea shrugs, honestly not knowing what the problem was. She liked the shows they watched together, and they sometimes make fun of them. Well, except for Bleach. That show was awesome.

"So? So, that's all we've been doing!"

"But Vaughn, we can change! Maybe we can go to see that new Snow White movie together, or go to dinner, or…" She trails off, looking at Vaughn sadly. He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, Chelsea," he apologizes. "I just think we need to see other people." With that, Vaughn turns his back on Chelsea, scurrying back into his house.

As Chelsea walks back to her house, hands tucked into her jacket pockets, she contemplates what just happened. Vaughn said that they needed to see other people, but who? I mean, the people that Natalie tries to set her up with are total douches, and no one from school is available. Well, except for Elliot, but he's Natalie's brother, which makes him automatically off-limits to the blonde, if you forget the fact that he's been flirting with her for years. Chelsea sighs in annoyance.

What's she going to do now?

* * *

Around three days later, Chelsea is sitting on a spinning chair in Natalie's room, spinning herself around slowly as Natalie fumes about Vaughn. Her bag is sitting idly beneath a desk that would never have been used were it not for the fact that Natalie keeps her laptop on it. Her mother won't allow her to use it anywhere else, for fear of dropping it. After all, there was that one incident where Natalie had left her laptop on her bed while she was asleep, and it fell off sometime in the middle of the night. Luckily, it was still alive, but it had blue screens _much _more often, much to the pink haired girl's annoyance.

"I can't believe the nerve of that guy! I mean, come on, clearly you two were meant for each other!" Natalie rants as she paces around the room. Chelsea rolls her eyes, wondering if Natalie remembered the fact that she kept on setting her up with other boys even though Chelsea was already in a relationship. Then again, that shouldn't be a problem now. Natalie looks at Chelsea with a disbelieving expression on her face.

"You seem to be taking this well," she says, which is another phrase for 'Show at least some misery, woman!'

"I am filled with misery," Chelsea complies with a dead voice. "The end is nigh."

Natalie rolls her eyes at the obvious sarcasm in Chelsea's voice, but continues to rant. Suddenly, she gets an idea.

"Hey, I know! Maybe…" She takes a deep breath. "I can set you up some summer flings!"

Chelsea shakes her head. "Sounds like a bad idea to me. Besides, you're the person who's more likely to have a summer fling, so why don't you do it instead?"

"Who, me? But I've had countless summer flings before!"

Natalie begins listing off the names of boys she had dates summers prior. Chelsea shakes her head, not remembering that Natalie is still trying to woo that guy who moved in yesterday. "Don't name them or we'll be here all day!"

The girl with the pink hair shrugs her shoulders. "Eh, your call. But seriously, at some point in a teenager's life, they gotta have a summer fling! Why don't you start this summer? I can set you up with someone, if you'd like!"

The girl in the red bandanna shakes her head rapidly. "I don't think so. Remember that time Elliot set you up with one of his friends?"

Natalie laughs at the seemingly random memory, which Chelsea actually picked so that Natalie would think about the impact she's having on the blonde. What if Natalie chose a jerk or something for her to date? That would really be horrible! "Oh yeah… we went to that carnival… hey, remember what we did in the Hall of Mirrors?"

"Oh believe me, I'll never forget." Chelsea's eyes widen as she says this. Couldn't Natalie have been less explicit with the details? Honestly, if Chelsea ever ended up becoming a nun, Natalie would only have herself to blame. Although, that sounded like a good idea right about now. Maybe Chelsea could ask Natalie to help her research nunneries later… "Anyway, I can't have a summer fling! I mean, I just broke up with Vaughn, and I still need to adjust to life without him."

"Adjust to it?" Natalie walks over to Chelsea's bag, picking it up and scooping up some notebooks inside it, opening them. "These books are filled with sad, sad poems, all about your break-up!"

"My personal favorite is _Standing in the Rain_," Chelsea boasts, puffing out her chest. "Wanna read it?"

"_No!_" Natalie tucks the notebooks back into the blue bag. "With the rate you're going at, you may never recover."

Natalie's big brother Elliot is passing by the open door as the pink haired girl says this. His glasses-covered eyes look into the room, and he can't help but stick his nose into whatever the two girls inside are talking about this time.

"Recover from what?" he asks. Natalie glares at her brother, but answers his question anyway.

"Chelsea just broke up with her boyfriend. I'm trying to comfort her. She's absolutely devastated about it."

Elliot raises an eyebrow and looks at Chelsea, who's only frowning just a little. She's heard him say before that if she ever needed a shoulder to cry on, his is very wide and extremely waterproof. But Chelsea's way too strong to cry over this. Or she just doesn't want to cry in front of Natalie. Either way, she isn't going to cry! Elliot chooses not to comment on Chelsea's deadpan expression, instead settling on saying "Well, if she's looking for a new boyfriend, she can always talk to me…"

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" Chelsea asks with a bite in her voice, denying any chance Elliot might have at her without saying a 'no'. Elliot's been trying and failing to date Chelsea for years, and, honestly, it's kind of endearing to Chelsea to see him try to be with her so hard. She wouldn't have made his efforts all in vain if she hadn't loved him the same way she loves Natalie, though (like siblings). Pouting, Elliot accepts his defeat and walks away, leaving the two friends in peace again.

"Well, now that that's over…" Natalie continues talking about summer flings, but Chelsea puts up a hand and interrupts her.

"Eh, this conversation is _over_."

"But - "

"OVER!"

Natalie sighs and puts up her hands in surrender. "Alright, alright, you win! We won't talk about summer flings anymore."

Glad that she finally subdued her friend, Chelsea smiles. Normally Natalie would continue battling for her side of the argument, but the blonde gets the feeling that this isn't over, otherwise the pink haired girl wouldn't have surrendered as easily as that.

"Good. Now will you read my poems?"

Natalie sighs in annoyance, but complies nonetheless.

* * *

Two days later, Chelsea is headed to the mall. She's wearing her usual outfit again today, since jeans and summer just don't go well together. A large building slithers into her sight and becomes larger as she walks nearer. Teenagers sit on the steps and do whatever as the blonde makes her way to a nearby bench (walking all the way from her house to the mall makes her tired. Oh, if only she had gotten that GPA of 4 that she'd needed for her mother to buy her a new car!) She feels her phone vibrate inside her bag, signalling that she just got a message. It takes a long time for Chelsea to fish the phone out, but when she does, she sees that the text is from Natalie.

Chelsea's blue eyes scan the message and darken when it tells her to go to the beach, since Natalie has a surprise for her. But what can it possibly be?

After a few minutes of just lounging on the bench, Chelsea decides that she's had enough rest and stands up, stretching. Why is it that she's so good at running in P.E, but has so little stamina in real life? It was as if she'd walk a few dozen meters, then suddenly need to rest. Although, to give herself some credit, Chelsea blames it on the fact that those distances are longer than the twenty meters the class runs in Phys Ed. (She's right.) In the end, she decides to herself that after she meets Natalie for whatever at the beach, she'll persuade her mother to buy her a bike. Beneficial to the environment, costs less to buy new shoes (the ones she had were always worn from her constant walking), and free exercise; it's a win-win-win situation!

However, this time, she just hails a cab.

After quite some time, the cab pulls up to the destined beach. Chelsea pays the driver for his troubles and leaves him to drive away, turning around and making her way to the shore. It's a beautiful day. Palm trees are gently swaying in the breeze, but Chelsea takes care not to walk under them, should gravity work its magical ways on some unfortunate coconut. The ocean is a deep blue… or was it green? Chelsea can never tell, but in the end, she decides that the point where the water meets the sand is green, and the rest of that is blue. Yes… that seems like the logical answer. There aren't very many people on the beach, which is surprising due to the current season.

The blonde waves off this fact and makes her way to a nearby pier, where two boys are fishing nearby a rickety old shack, which appears to be called 'Just For The Halibut'. One's tan and wearing a purple bandanna, and the other's wearing a blue cap over his light blonde hair. She walks over to them and clears her throat, catching their attention.

"Um, excuse me… you haven't seen a girl with pink hair anywhere around here, have you?" Chelsea asks uncertainly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear like she always does when she's nervous. Maybe Natalie's here in person, but, knowing her, maybe she isn't. It doesn't hurt to ask anyway, though…

The boy with the tanned skin shows confusion on his face for a few moments, until he breaks out into a grin.

"Oh, so you're my date?"

Chelsea's eyes widen and she feels the inside of her mouth become dry. She can't think of an answer, but luckily, the blonde boy answers her question.

"Do you mean Natalie? Nah, not around here. But she called Denny here yesterday and set him up with who I'm assuming to be you."

Oh, so Denny's his name. Actually, it's kinda cute, and so is he… you know, even though he smells like fish. Chelsea wrinkles her nose at the smell. Yeah, that's totally something Natalie would do, and Chelsea is the only one the girl with the pink hair bothers to set up with boys, so it's definitely her who's going on a date with… _Denny_.

"Yeah, it's probably me…" she mutters to herself, but Denny must have bionic ears or something because he grins at her.

"Sweet! Just let me go get ready." Denny stands up, taking the fishing pole with him, and walks into the nearby shack. Hopefully taking a shower and getting rid of the fishy smell is part of what he means by getting ready, since Chelsea doesn't want that smell on her mind if she and him are to go out to dinner or something like that.

As soon as Denny's out of his line of sight, Blondie stands up. He turns around and gives Chelsea a once over, which makes her a little uncomfortable, so she begins preening under his gaze.

"Yeah, I don't think you're going to last very long," Blondie mutters to himself, Chelsea taking offense.

"What exactly do you mean?" she asks politely. Actually, she recognizes him from school – part of the back of the class crew, as she and Natalie called it. What was his name again…?

"Listen, I know who you are. You're Chelsea Gardner, aren't you?" he asks, ignoring her previous question.

"How do you know that?"

"Almost everyone in the grade knows who you are. After all, you're one of the smartest. Although, I figure you don't know who I am, do you?"

Chelsea shakes her head. She tries to rack her brain for a name, but she comes up short.

"The name's Mark, Mark Farmer. Anyway, you do _not _want to go on this date with Denny. It's like he's cursed or something – every date he has turns sour at some point." Mark shudders to make his point. Chelsea raises an eyebrow at this.

"Oh come on, I'm sure he's not that bad."

"Oh really? When he took some pop star wannabe girl to the movies, the projector caught on fire. And then when he took a Japanese chick to his favorite restaurant, she ended up contracting food poisoning. And let's not forget the time that - "

"Alright, I've heard enough!" Chelsea cuts him off short, not wanting to hear anymore. After all, it's just making her worry about what's going to happen on this date! Mark smirks and puts a gloved hand into his pocket.

"I rest my case. Anyway, try to be safe, and don't do anything I wouldn't do, kay?" Mark puts a reassuring hand on Chelsea's shoulder, which makes her relax. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but all of a sudden, she wants to go with Mark on this date instead of Denny. The latter brunette suddenly materializes by the two.

"Hey, what are you doing? She's _my _date, not yours!" Denny glares at Mark, who releases Chelsea's shoulder and holds up his hands in defence.

"I wasn't doing anything, just giving her some advice."

"Well, you can stop advising her now, because we're going to start our date now!"

Frustrated and impatient, Denny grabs Chelsea's hand and begins walking toward the entrance/exit of the beach, presumably to hail a taxi or something. The blond boy stays behind and looks like he's writing something, and when he finishes, he begins running to the two. Mark is able to catch up with them without Denny noticing him, and reaches out a hand, throwing Chelsea something that she's able to catch. It's a slip of paper, folded in half. Upon opening it up, she finds a phone number, which she's assuming to be Mark's.

_Call me if you get in trouble._

* * *

After a few minutes of riding in a cab with nothing to hear but Denny's constant chatter, the sound of the crowd in the pizzeria is a relief to Chelsea.

"I love this place so much!" Denny exclaims as he pulls Chelsea into the building, taking a seat at an unoccupied table. After a few moments, someone comes over and gives them each a menu. Chelsea wrinkles her nose at the food on the menu.

"Everything in this place has meat in it…"

"I know! That's why this place is awesome!"

"Yeah, but… I'm a vegetarian."

"Oh, that's okay then! You can just order the vegetarian pizza or something."

Chelsea looks at the vegetarian pizza that Denny just mentioned; pineapple, bell peppers, olives… and ham. Frustrated and wondering what idiot came up with this menu, Chelsea sighs as Denny calls the waiter over.

"I'll have the Meat Lover's Delight, and…" Denny looks curiously at Chelsea, who waves off his gaze and says that she'll just have a salad, thank you very much. The brunette sitting across the table nods. "Alright! A Meat Lover's Delight and a Chicken Bit Salad, thanks."

Cradling her head in her hands, Chelsea wonders when this date is going to end.

* * *

Fate is not kind to her, since now Denny's taking them on a 'romantic stroll through the forest', as he put it. Something about seeing it in every romance movie, ever. Yeah, right. Name one movie where the leading couple get lost (or don't get murdered, whatever floats your boat), because that's exactly what they are right now; _lost_. Chelsea's trying to call Natalie to yell at her and Mark since he told her to call in an emergency, but she's not getting any signal. The sun has set already, and they should have been back to the beach hours ago. Worse, now Denny's beginning to get scared. Isn't the girl supposed to get scared in these kinds of situations…? Chelsea glares at the dark figure that she assumes to be Denny for getting them into this predicament.

Well, at least he doesn't smell like fish like he did earlier.

"Listen, Denny… I think we can get out of this," Chelsea says, shining the light of her phone on her companion. Luckily, her time as a Girl Scout has paid off; she knows to look for some things, like a path, a sign, footprints… "Follow me!"

Her footsteps echo throughout the forest as she tries to make her way through the forest. Several minutes pass, and she wonders if she's ever going to see civilization again… until she sees a light at the end of the trail. Grateful, she runs forward towards it.

"Looks like you got in trouble, eh?"

As it turns out, the source of the light is actually Mark sitting on his bicycle, and he's holding a flashlight. He looks worriedly at Chelsea, who has leaves and twigs in her hair; her clothes and face are dirtied with mud; there's a scratch on her face where she ran into a tree branch without moving it out of her way first.

"What… do… you… think?" Chelsea pants. "Hey, how'd you find us in the first place?"

"I followed the sound of your voices." Mark doesn't explain any further, instead settling for looking behind her. "Hey, where's Denny?"

"Denny? Oh, he's right… behind me…" Chelsea trails off as she looks behind her and doesn't see the brunette. She groans loudly. They've only known each other for a few hours, but at least it's safe for Chelsea to assume that Denny isn't exactly the sharpest pitchfork in the barn. In fact, he's more like a rubber spatula. _That's _how far from the barn he is. But right now, Chelsea's main concern is how far away from her he is. "I told him to follow me!"

"I'll go look for him," Mark sighs in annoyance. He seems to be the opposite of Denny, from what Chelsea's seen of him today. "You stay here. I don't want you to get any more damaged than you are right now."

"But - "

"No buts! Stay here by the bicycle, and I'll be back in a few moments." And with that, Mark makes his way into the forest, calling Denny's name. Chelsea sighs and sits down beside the bike, hating the feeling of uselessness that's come over her. Why does Mark care about her well-being so much, even though they've just met…?

* * *

The next day, Chelsea is in Natalie's house yet again, this time trying to attack the pink haired girl with an overstuffed pillow while the victim tries to apologize.

"YOU! SCARED! ME! SO! MUCH!" the blonde shouts, one whack per word. She got home so late, her parents would have grounded her if they had been awake enough.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Natalie shouts back, defending herself using only her hands. "I promise it'll never happen again!"

"WE! GOT! LOST! IN! A FOREST!"

"I know, you told me that already! Just calm down!"

"NOT! UNTIL! YOU! PROMISE! TO STOP! SETTING! ME UP!"

"Alright, alright! I promise I won't set you up any more dates without telling you."

Chelsea finally calms down, and takes several deep breaths. "…that's good then."

"Right after this one."

"WHAT!" Chelsea hits Natalie with the pillow once again. Feathers fly as the thing finally splits, nestling themselves everywhere they can reach. Natalie rubs her nose where the pillow actually hit her.

"Alright, first; _ow_. Second, I really don't think you should be mad at me, since I set you up with someone who I really think you'll like."

This makes Chelsea's frown soften a little, as she wonders who Natalie could possibly be talking about.

"…who exactly are you talking about?"

"Oh, no one… just William Regison…"

Chelsea can feel her jaw drop nearly all the way down to the floor. "W-William… Regison?"

"You heard me!"

"But how did you manage to set him up with…_me_?" Chelsea interrogates her friend. "Doesn't he, like, only date royalty and celebrities or something?"

"Oh, I know a guy…" Natalie smirks, as if she's sharing an inside joke with some special part of her mind. "Also, I just described you to him and said that you were the friends with a cousin of the princess of Canada, and he said that you sounded perfect for him!"

Chelsea considers this for a moment, then says "…Canada doesn't have a princess."

"Well, he doesn't know that!" Natalie replies sharply. Their conversation is cut short by a doorbell downstairs, and the girl with pink hair smirks. "I'm guessing that's him."

"Natalie, you're the best!" Chelsea gives her friend a hug, which is returned, then scurries downstairs. She practically flings open the front door, to be met by the smiling face of her long time crush, William Regison. It pays to have Natalie as a best friend sometimes.

"Hello there." William takes Chelsea's hand in his and gives it a kiss, making her inner fangirl go crazy. She has to bite her lip to keep from squealing. "I'm assuming you're Chelsea?"

Chelsea nods sheepishly, a silly smile on her face. By this time, Natalie's made her way down the stairs and is watching the exchange with her arm resting on the banister.

"Heh," she mutters to herself. "I'm the best bad influence ever."

* * *

After a long trip to a beachside restaurant, Chelsea is feeling slightly uncomfortable, even though she's sitting on plush fabric inside of a long, black limousine. Speaking of limousines, Chelsea was quite surprised to see it.

"_You like it?" Will (as he had told her to call him) had asked her. "It's a Deluxe Edition 2. I have five of these," he boasted. Chelsea couldn't help but feel slightly guilty at deceiving Will, but that's what got her to have a date with him in the first place. "What kind of limo do you have?"_

_Chelsea's mind had gone blank. Normally, she would tell someone the truth, but come on! This was William Regison we're talking about here!_

"_Um… well, not this kind, that's for sure," she joked, laughing awkwardly. Will chuckled along with her. "Eh, well…" Chelsea swallowed, hoping Will was as dumb as Natalie had implied (Seriously? Not knowing that Canada has a prime minister and not a princess?). "Um, my limo… i-it can transform into a jet or a boat when needed… it… it talks to you with a robotic voice… and it… uh, it can drive itself?"_

_Will's eyes widened. "No way! The Ultra Super Deluxe? I heard there are only three of those in existence!"_

Chelsea shifts awkwardly at the memory. Oh, how she hates lying! Right now, Will's talking about how he's one of the top students at whatever prestigious school he goes to (Chelsea has to hold in a snort at this) and how he's also on the basketball team over there.

"Um, Will? I think we're here." Chelsea points out the window. They're at a beach – a different one from yesterday, thank God. The darker blonde doesn't think she can take meeting Denny again, even if they do go to the same school. Although, that's something she'll have to deal with later this year, or, in the best case, never.

The chauffeur stops the car just before the point where the road meets the sand, then lets them out a few moments later. Will sticks out his arm for Chelsea to take, and the girl obliges. They make their way to a lovely restaurant, where a lot of people are dining. In fact, it almost seems like there are too many people…

"Excuse me, can I help you?" a familiar voice asks, making Chelsea turn her head and come face to face with… Mark? Her eyes widen, but she doesn't say a word while Will nods.

"Yes, me and Chelsea here would like to be seated right away."

Mark nods in understanding. "I'll go see if there are any available tables yet." He turns around to walk away, making eye contact with Chelsea as he does so, as if warning her about something. After about a minute of waiting, Mark comes back, an apologetic look on his face.

"I'm sorry, sir, but there are no available tables. If you would just wait for a while - "

"No available tables? Then make one available! I'm running a tight schedule here, and I have no time for waiting!" Will exclaims in anger, glaring at Mark. Chelsea is surprised at Will's outburst, and stares at him in shock. The male in the white jacket looks around, then sees two old timers, looking over their menus and discussing what to eat.

One experience that must have scarred the children around for life later, Chelsea and Will are sitting pretty at a clean table, the seniors walking away as fast as they can, the old man shooting dirty looks over his shoulder and muttering curses, aimed mostly at Will (thank goodness). However, Chelsea can't help but feel guilty for the two people that Will had just shouted at to get out and make some room for the young people, the _better_ people, as he had put it. Across the table from her, Will looks over his menu at her.

"Chelsea, my dear, are you alright?" he asks, actually managing to sound concerned, although that's probably Chelsea's ears deceiving her (the traitors). She nods her head.

"Yeah, I am."

Will appears to be satisfied with this answer, so he goes back to looking at the paper in his hands. Chelsea decides that the shorter time she takes to order, the shorter this 'date' will be. She picks up the menu and looks it over.

Wait… none of this stuff looks like food at all, except for a few that Chelsea has heard of from watching various cooking shows.

Mark comes over and looks over the two. "And are you two ready to order?"

Chelsea nods and orders… something to do with baklava and salad leaves? Oh well, it must be good, since Mark nods in appreciation. "Excellent choice, madam."

Will crosses his arms. "Yeah, I guess."

The male makes his order (lobster stuffed with something on a bed of something), which Chelsea has to raise an eyebrow at. That doesn't sound like something that she read on the menu. Confirming her suspicions, Mark furrows his eyebrows.

"I'm not sure if we have that, sir…"

"Go check if you do, then!"

"R-Right, sir."

Mark walks away to where Chelsea assumes the kitchens must be.

"Hmph. Insolent waiter." Will frowns at where Mark was standing previously while Chelsea looks at him in question.

"I quite liked him…"

Will turns and looks up at her. "I'm sorry, but what school did you say you were going to?"

Chelsea tells the flaxen haired male the name of the school, and he nods in understanding. "Oh, that must be why you like him."

"...do you have a problem with my school?"

"Oh, no, of course not! It's just that if you and that… _waiter _went to _my _school, you would learn much different things from what they teach you at _your _school."

Chelsea tries to hold back a biting remark, but can't help saying it anyway. "Well, at least our school doesn't consist of _snobs_."

"Exactly! I mean, everyone at school is so weird. You know, there's this one boy with the _stupidest _cow lick who always boasts about his three summer homes in India, China, and England, although why he has a summer home in England, I'll never know… but why should _he_ brag? I mean, I've got three in India alone!"

The fair-haired girl listening to this rolls her eyes, but luckily, she's saved by Mark coming back.

"I'm sorry, sir, but it appears we don't have your dish… in fact, we don't even have most of the necessary ingredients to make it."

Of course, this enrages Will and turns him into what Chelsea describes to Natalie later as Willzilla (or GodWilla? No, that sounds too much like 'Goodwill'…). He demands to see the manager, but Mark manages to calm him down by saying that for Will's troubles… well, actually, Chelsea couldn't really remember what Mark had told Will they would do. Something about not having to pay for the meal? Yeah, that was probably it. Lucky.

"Don't you think that was a bit rash?" Chelsea asks as soon as Mark is out of earshot.

"Chelsea, my dear, that's just how life is! If you say that you're going to complain to the manager about something, the waiters fear for their job and give you something like a free meal. It's just the circle of life."

Chelsea sighs in annoyance and cradles her head in her hands. However, after a moment, she spots Mark beckoning her from a wall behind Will. He's saying something about needing to talk to her…

"Um… Will?"

"Yes?"

"I have to… um, I have to go… wash my purse!"

"Oh, alright then. Hurry back!"

Rolling her eyes at Will's ignorance, Chelsea walks to the side of the restaurant where Mark is, making sure to take her purse with her. When she meets him, he takes her hand and brings her to the parking lot. Luckily, Will's staring straight ahead and not looking behind him – why should he, anyway?

"Wanna explain why you're on a date with Mr. Holier-than-thou over there?"

Chelsea sighs in frustration. "Because I've lost control of my life."

"No, give me a serious answer."

"Alright, Natalie keeps on setting me up with random people because I broke up with my boyfriend a couple of days ago."

Mark nods in understanding. "Ah, a summer fling. I get it now. But why don't you just tell her that you don't want her to set you up anymore?"

"She won't take no for an answer." With a shrug, Chelsea remembers how Natalie had brought up the idea and the blonde had refused readily. Mark furrows his eyebrows again.

"Hm… well, if she's really your friend, she'll respect your decision if you really tell her you don't want to do this kind of stuff. Especially if it means going out with the likes of _him_." Mark shudders in disgust, as if 'William Regison' is synonymous with 'Black Plague'. At this point, Chelsea can't help but notice that he looks so different without his cap on; his hair looks really messy, but for some reason, it makes him look handsome. Add the waiter suit to that and Chelsea is a blushing mess. "Listen, I'm just saying you should do what you want. Okay?"

"…okay."

Mark puts a reassuring hand on Chelsea's shoulder, just like he did when she was about to date Denny.

"Oh, Mark, why are you here anyway?" Chelsea shrugs her shoulder, leaving Mark to drop his arm back to his side.

"Eh, well… my family's going through some tough times, so I need to get some part time jobs to compensate. Until yesterday I was working at that fish shack, and now… um, I'm a waiter, in case you haven't noticed."

Their conversation is interrupted by an angry Will storming into the parking lot, probably searching for Chelsea. He stops when he sees Mark with his hand on Chelsea's shoulder.

"…what's going on here?" Will exclaims. Hesitantly, Mark takes his hand off Chelsea's shoulder and holds his hands up in defence while Chelsea tries to explain.

"N-Nothing, Will!"

She tries to explain further, but is cut off by Will. He's really starting to get on her nerves now.

"Nothing? Well, I don't know how you were raised, but I was raised to believe that women hanging out with shady men in parking lots aren't doing nothing at all!"

"B-But - "

"No buts! As for you…" Will turns to Mark, who's trying to slip away. "I should tell your manager about this! What kind of a person tries to seduce other people's dates in parking lots?"

"Not Mark." Chelsea sets her jaw as she defends her friend. In shock, Mark looks over Will's shoulder (Will is about a head taller than Mark) while Will turns around.

"…what did you just say?"

"You heard me." The girl crosses her arms, fully prepared to chew out Mr. Hey-you-quit-breathing-my-air, and gives her patented 'bitch please' glare at Will, who is looking about as steamed as that lobster that he never got to have.

"You… how dare you talk back to me! Honestly, that school of yours teaches you everything wrong! Now, if you went to my school - "

"You mean so I can turn out as big of a snob as you are? Please. I've had a crush on you for, like, ten years. But after tonight... I wouldn't even _spit _in your direction." Satisfied, Chelsea turns her back on Will and walks away, Mark looking at her in a newfound admiration. She meant what she said, and she said what she meant. Seriously, who goes around and accuses people of doing whatever when all they did was exist? And what had ever managed to convince Chelsea that Will 'The Prince' Regison was actually her knight in shining armor?

Shocked, Will just stands there staring after Chelsea until she reaches the sand. Mark, he's just standing there, smirking at the dumbstruck boy. And then, Will snaps out of his stupor and runs after Chelsea, who's managed to climb on top of a sand dune.

"You… insolent… woman! What makes you think you can turn your back on _me_?" he hisses as he manages to catch up with Chelsea, grabbing her arm.

"Oh, you did _not _just grab me!" Chelsea snaps. Turning around, she grabs Will's arm and clenches it with a bone-crushing hold. "Listen here, bub. Tonight has been the _worst_ night of my life, and I have been lost in a forest with no-one but some fisherman who's afraid of the dark. And you call _me_ insolent?"

"You… let go of my arm. THIS! INSTANT!" Will roars, struggling against Chelsea's grip. Chelsea smirks.

"Whatever you say… _your majesty_."

Chelsea lets go of Will's arm, but uses her free arm to push him down the sand dune. That would have been awesome enough as it is, but the sand dune they're standing on is positioned so that Will keeps on rolling until, eventually…

_SPLASH!_

He rolls into the ocean. Smirking down at her handiwork, Chelsea crosses her arms and leers at Will, when Mark materializes by her side.

"You… you just pushed William Regison into the ocean!" he pants. Will's still trying to get out of the water, climbing up the sand dune to get to Chelsea, but it's so steep that he just ends up rolling into the ocean again.

"Yeah, I did."

"FARMER!"

"Oh…" Mark trails off as he turns around. Chelsea cranes her neck to see what Mark's talking about; it's a short, fat man in a tuxedo. The blond boy faces the female beside him. "That's my manager… you might wanna run away."

"Mark Farmer, what is the meaning of this? I'm getting complaints of a disturbance and _WHY IS WILLIAM REGISON IN THE OCEAN_?"

"Now!" Mark orders Chelsea, who nods and runs to the opposite side to the dune. However, after a moment, she comes back and gives Mark a kiss on the cheek. Understandably, Mark is surprised at this. "Wha...?"

"You told me I should do what I wanted to do." Chelsea smiles coyly, blushing slightly. "Well, that's what I wanted to do."

"…" Mark is silent for a few moments, then he smiles. The manager is waddling closer, waving his fist in the air like a crazed baboon. In a spur of the moment decision, Chelsea takes Mark's hand, and together, they run away, leaving behind a humiliated 'prince' and a furious manager, both red-faced.

For the first time this evening, Chelsea is grateful that Natalie set her up on this date.

* * *

**Whee, great story, riiiiiiight? It's totes gonna wiiiiiiin, I'm Bob and I have magical poweeeeers. *sarcasm* Oh, by the way, the name of the forum is 'Story Harvest', in case you're interested in it. Just saiyan. c:**


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